


The Worst That Could Happen

by RoseisaRoseisaRose



Series: Everyday I'm Drabbling [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Eavesdropping, F/F, honestly it's just fluff, that's all it is, wacky misunderstandings (TM)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22408768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseisaRoseisaRose/pseuds/RoseisaRoseisaRose
Summary: Marianne overhears Claude and Hilda talking, and draws the wrong conclusion.Written for the Felannie discord drabble challenge; this week's prompt was "misunderstandings."
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Series: Everyday I'm Drabbling [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1649380
Comments: 12
Kudos: 87
Collections: Those Who Drabble in the Dark





	The Worst That Could Happen

**Author's Note:**

> I just think they're neat.

Marianne didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But when she heard Claude and Hilda’s raised voices from inside the library, she paused before going in, not wanting to interrupt.

“You can’t ask me to do that, Claude, I’m not like you,” Hilda was saying.

“Hilda, it’ll be easier for you if you get it out in the open,” Claude said easily. “It’s more fair to Marianne if you tell her, right?”

Okay. Now Marianne _was_ eavesdropping.

“I can’t just _tell_ her something like that,” Hilda squeaked. “You don’t just walk up to people and _say_ –”

“Oh, come _on_ , Hilda, what’s the worst that could happen?” Claude cut her off. “Tell me, right now, the worst thing that could happen.

There was a pause.

  
“I upset her,” Hilda said. “I upset her and she looks at me with those eyes and she destroys me.”

Marianne felt the world tilt. She’d always thought the worst thing that could happen would be the whole school finding out she was a monster. She was wrong. The worst thing was Hilda, just Hilda, finding out.

Hilda kept talking.

“She destroys me and I die and I’m lying dead on the ground and you come down for breakfast and there I am, dead in the dining hall. You’d feel bad then, I bet.”

Marianne ran from the library doors as Claude’s laughter echoed down the hallway.

*

Marianne stood outside Hilda’s room that evening. She had to knock. She had to tell Hilda she’d overheard. She wasn’t sure if she was going to swear to never hurt her or beg for her silence or promise to leave the monastery immediately. She just knew she had to talk to Hilda.

The door opened before she could raise her hand. Hilda was in her nightgown, holding a teapot, clearly heading to the kitchens to make some tea before bed.

“Marianne!” she exclaimed. “Why are you visiting at this hour?”

Marianne still hadn’t decided what she wanted to say. So instead she burst into tears.

The next moments were chaos, with Marianne sobbing too hard to get words out and Hilda repeating “what’s wrong, what’s _wrong_?” as she guided the girl over to her bed and threw a blanket around her shoulders

“I heard - what you said – to Claude,” Marianne finally choked out. “I didn’t mean to listen – but now I know –”

Hilda had stopped fussing over Marianne’s blanket. “You – you heard that?” she asked, obviously horrified

Marianne nodded miserably. “I’m sorry, Hilda,” she said through a strangled sob. “I can leave the monastery, as soon as you want. Please don’t tell anyone. I . . . I never want to hurt you.”

Unable to commit to one strategy, she evidently decided on all of them.

Hilda grabbed her hands, then immediately dropped them. Marianne shuddered; her only friend in the world couldn’t bear to touch a monster.

“Please don’t leave, why would you leave,” Hilda whispered frantically. “I’ll leave, if that’s what you need, it’s my fault, Marianne, it’s my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault,” Marianne sniffled.

“No,” Hilda cut her off. “Let me take responsibility for once.”

“It’s nobody’s fault; I was born cursed.”

“I’m to blame for falling in love with you.”

They said these both at the same time. Then they said nothing at all, staring at each other.

“I’m sorry, what?” asked Marianne, tentatively.

“I . . . I could say the same thing,” Hilda finally replied. She stood up quickly, grabbing the teapot. “Do you want me to go get us some chamomile? I think we both have some things we ought to discuss.”


End file.
